“If you’re with me, I’Il get used to it. If you’ll leave me I’ll get used to it. Choose wisely!”

Words come and flow with me instantaneously. Perhaps, those were abandoned too by someone.

Lips getting dried, heart pumping faster, sweat seeping through the pores, cheeks turning red. Dear summer, stop acting like my lover.

You don’t miss me the way I’m supposed to be.

Art is what keeps humans, human.

The more I wanted to scream my pain out, the better listener I became. Thinking how badly others would have wanted it too.

You could have my soul and the body. Fool that you were; tried force on flesh instead. And lost the one who would have wrapped you up in her prayers.

A broken heart is usually mended in isolation.

Mash up tells me how difficult it is to stay loyal to one song.

Fluttered open the wings and flew off from my clenched hands; those butterflies always found a way to slip by just like time.

You know what love is? When even the wait is fun.

How do you feel now after making futile promises?

Its painful to see when your own people doesn’t support your artistic calibre. The very quality strangers call you extraordinary for.

My anxious self always melted in your arms, then. Now your grin from another screen telling me “its going to be okay” works just the same.

I expressed because you gave me enough freedom be myself around you, and thus, you deserve the same. You deserve to be heard too and not be counseled to at your attempt.

I love the woman I have become today. The one who breathes fire and douse it all at the same time.

All I knew that going forward and receding; both were important aspects to move ahead in life. So, few setbacks straightened out my path all the more.

The lessons from the peace process are clear; whatever life throws at us, our individual responses will be all the stronger for working together and sharing the load.

Here is all I ask of a book- give me everything. Everything, and don’t leave out a single word.

The No. 1 issue in the Hispanic American community is ‘How do I leave my children better off than myself?

An excuse which, if carried to its legitimate conclusion, would leave our business men weeping on one another’s shoulders over human frailty, while they picked one another’s pockets.

In our Country… one class of men makes war and leaves another to fight it out.

But coming to human birth and lured by the courtships of this sphere, she takes up with another love, a mortal, leaves her father and falls.

All of us in Parliament now have a responsibility to get on with the process of leaving the EU and securing a more prosperous future for Britain as an open, global, trading nation.

Since man is mortal, the only immortality possible for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal since it will always move. This is the artist’s way of scribbling “Kilroy was here” on the wall of the final and irrevocable oblivion through which he must someday pass.